Amor Amor Amor by Mien Oostvogels: A Wild Ride Through '89 Pop Cheese
Alright, let’s get real here. Amor Amor Amor isn’t your typical pop masterpiece—nope, it’s a chaotic love letter to bubblegum beats and over-the-top romance, straight outta the Netherlands in 1989. Released under Ivory Tower Records, this album feels like someone threw glitter, sax solos, and a bunch of Dutch optimism into a blender. And you know what? It kinda works.
First up, the title track "Amor Amor Amor"—this thing hits you like a sugar rush on steroids. The chorus slaps so hard it might as well be illegal. You can tell Mien was aiming for that “dancefloor anthem” vibe, and honestly? She nailed it. It’s cheesy as hell, but man, does it stick with you. Like those songs you hate-love because they’re stuck in your brain for days. I mean, come on, who doesn’t want to belt out “Amor Amor Amor!” while pretending their hairbrush is a microphone? Overproduced drums? Check. Synths louder than your ex's excuses? Double check. This one’s pure chaos fuel—and I’m not mad about it.
Then there’s "'k Ben Gelukkig Met Jou," which is basically Dutch for “I’m Happy With You.” Don’t let the sappy title fool you; this track has some serious swagger. It’s slow enough to make you think, Oh great, another ballad, but then BAM—it sneaks up on you with these lush harmonies and an earworm melody that just won’t quit. It’s the kind of song that makes you wanna grab your partner (or dog) and spin around dramatically in your living room. Sure, the lyrics are dripping with gooey sentimentality, but damn if they don’t tug at something deep inside you.
Now, look—I ain’t saying this album reinvented music or anything groundbreaking like that. But what it lacks in subtlety, it makes up for in sheer personality. Mien wasn’t trying to be cool; she went all-in on being unapologetically herself, and that’s rare. Most artists today wouldn’t dare put out stuff this bold without drowning it in irony.
Here’s the kicker though: listening to Amor Amor Amor feels like stepping into a time capsule from a world where cynicism hadn’t taken over yet. Back when people wore neon spandex and actually believed love could solve everything. Weird, right? Maybe that’s why I keep coming back to it. Or maybe I’m just a sucker for bad puns and synth-heavy jams. Either way, props to Mien for making something this gloriously unhinged.
Final thought: If aliens ever invade Earth, we should blast this album into space as proof humanity had both guts and questionable taste. Deal?
